


I'll Always Find a Way

by Selenay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Episode Related, M/M, Pheels, Post-Episode: s01e01 Pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenay/pseuds/Selenay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm not sure whether I want to punch you or kiss you right now," Clint said conversationally. "Leaning toward punching, actually. Really, really feeling that itch. Except it looks like someone got there first and I hate punching a guy when he's down."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Always Find a Way

**Author's Note:**

> I swore to myself that I wasn't going to write episode reaction fics. And then...this happened.

The party to celebrate their first full week of being a team and not getting killed was still going downstairs, but Phil was tired and aching so he exited early and slipped upstairs to the quiet of his quarters. It was the first time since he'd brought them together than he really felt like they might be figuring out the 'team' aspect of their new mission. They probably didn't need to do it with their boss standing around trying not to look like he'd been awake and running for forty hours.

Better to leave them in the lounge with beer and music and pizza so they could get buzzed and bond a little. They couldn't do any damage: he'd carefully locked down everything dangerous before the beer came out.

The door closed with a soft swish and Phil let his shoulders slump slightly now that nobody was looking at him. He'd been awake and running _and_ picked up more than a few cuts and bruises over the last forty hours. Lying down for a few hours sounded like paradise right now.

A long shower or a soak in a bath would have sounded even better, but the Bus had limited washing facilities and a ninety second timer on the shower. So lying down and getting some sleep would have to do.

He threw his jacket over a chair and loosened his tie and shirt buttons as he crossed the lounge to the tiny cabin that concealed his bed. He blamed exhaustion for the fact that he didn't notice anyone had been in his quarters until he pressed the button to open the door and found Clint stretched out on his bed.

Phil blinked and frowned. Clint looked up at him with an indecipherable expression.

Indecipherable was probably as good as Phil could have hoped for in the circumstances.

For a while neither of them spoke. Phil had planned this moment a hundred times in his head but now all his clever words melted away and he was left with nothing.

"Nice bed," Clint said eventually.

There was an edge of something in Clint's voice that made Phil wince and tense for whatever was coming next.

Another long silence only made the tension worse and Phil could feel a headache started to throb just above his right eye.

"I'm not sure whether I want to punch you or kiss you right now," Clint said conversationally. "Leaning toward punching, actually. Really, really feeling that itch. Except it looks like someone got there first and I hate punching a guy when he's down."

Phil touched the bruise he knew was turning his jaw five different shades of purple. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"YouTube, Phil. Your face is all over YouTube!"

Skye had warned him that there was video out there from the train station, but they'd been too busy dealing with the mystery object in Peru to do anything about it. At least, that's what he'd told himself when he turned down Skye's offer to hack every server she could find. There wasn't much point wasting resources when the video was already spreading like wildfire. 

"This wasn't how I wanted you to find out," Phil said.

Clint rolled to his feet and took a step forward, all the pent up anger now showing raw on his face. Instinctively Phil backed away and nearly fell over the sofa behind him. He managed to catch himself before he tumbled over the back and he straightened up slowly, not looking away from the stony glare Clint was now sending him.

"How did you plan for me to find out?" Clint asked. "Did you ever plan-?"

"Of course I did!" Phil cut in. "Don't even think that. I always planned to find a way."

"A way? What does that mean?"

"It means that I couldn't just walk up to Stark Tower and let you all know I'm alive!" Phil sighed. "I needed to find another way and I hadn't found it yet. Fury wanted me to be dead for reasons he hasn't explained yet and they've been keeping me under close observation. No contact with anyone they don't want me contacting and my existence was supposed to be strictly need to know even for level seven agents."

"And you agreed to that?" Clint balled his hands at his sides but didn't move closer. "You agreed to leave all of us behind? To leave me behind?"

"I didn't have much choice. By the time I was able to ask for anything, Fury had already told you I was dead. The Battle of New York was over. You were all scattering and I was stuck in a medical facility, getting congratulated for pissing without a tube."

"You look pretty healthy right now."

"They sent me to Tahiti. There was some physio." Phil frowned, prodding at those memories because they still felt strange and fuzzy. "Tahiti is a magical place."

It was the wrong thing to say and he realised it about half a second after Clint shoved him hard in the chest. He toppled over the back of the sofa and slid to the floor with a pained grunt as his shoulders took the brunt of his weight. His legs and hips were still caught on the seat of the sofa and he knew that he probably looked ridiculous but for some reason Clint's eyes widened and the anger melted away.

"Shit, Phil, are you OK?" Clint asked as he vaulted the sofa.

Phil tried to roll over and sucked in a quick breath as brand new bruises let him know very firmly that his body didn't appreciate the abuse it had taken.

Clint didn't seem to know whether to help or continue their argument so he crouched and half reached out before catching himself and stopping with his hands held out awkwardly. Guilt and anger warred in his eyes and Phil felt a fresh wave of his own guilt curdle his stomach. This was turning into exactly the kind of disaster he'd predicted to Fury all those months ago.

For a while they seemed to be at a stalemate, locked in the moment and unable to work out how to move out of it. Phil's neck and shoulders were starting to ache fiercely and his feet were going numb but he couldn't make himself move until Clint moved. In the back of his mind there was the lurking fear that if he made any more mistakes, Clint might just leave forever.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Clint said eventually. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't walk out of here right now and not look back. One really good reason. I thought we had something good together and I need to know what was so much more important to you that you'd just leave it behind with some vague plan to call me one day, maybe."

"The future," Phil said without hesitation. "Fury showed me some things a few days after I woke up and they terrified me. I can't tell you what's happening, I wish I could, but if you've ever trusted me then please believe that I had to do this."

"And the future is supposed to be something I care about?"

Phil cautiously reached out to take one of Clint's hands and he swallowed as Clint's fingers stayed stiff and unyielding in his. "If you didn't care then you wouldn't be the Clint Barton that I fell in love with."

Clint looked frozen for a moment before he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Bastard. You always have to say that shit when I'm trying to be angry with you."

"Is it working? Because I'd like to sit up and I think that I'm going to need a hand."

"This doesn't mean I'm not still angry with you," Clint warned, but he briefly squeezed Phil's hand and Phil took that as a hopeful sign.

They sat side by side on the floor after Clint helped Phil up, their backs against the sofa and half a foot of clear air between their shoulders. Phil's feet were prickling as the circulation returned and he ached everywhere but he didn't want to get up now that Clint seemed to be seriously considering not hating him.

"This was one of Fury's deals, wasn't it?" Clint asked. "That's why you couldn't tell me."

"He has a plan. I don't know how it's going to play out, but it's bigger than both of us and all of this," Phil gestured around his quarters, "is part of it. I'd been hoping I could find a way to get a message to you when we got this operation up and running."

"Really?"

"Really." Phil allowed himself a small smile. "The YouTube video wasn't in my plan. I didn't even know you watched YouTube."

"Natasha likes the funny cat videos."

It was a complete lie but Phil didn't call him on it. "Do the rest know?"

"Only me and Natasha," Clint said. "They'll find out soon, though. That video isn't going to just disappear, not now that it's getting passed around, and you know Stark's going to find it. Probably in the next few hours."

"They can't come after me," Phil said.

"I'm not sure-"

"Clint, they can't come after me," Phil repeated, taking a chance and putting a hand on Clint's forearm so he could squeeze it hard. "Tell them whatever you have to, but they have to stay away."

"I'll try," Clint said without meeting his eyes.

It wasn't the most heartfelt promise Phil had ever heard Clint make but he had no doubt that Clint would do his best, although how much good it would do in the face of Tony Stark at his most stubborn was hard to tell.

"How did you find me?" Phil asked.

"Nat," Clint said. "Is that really your new team down there?"

"That's my new team."

Clint hesitated for a moment before saying, "Why didn't you want me on your team?"

There was a note of hurt in Clint's voice and Phil realised with a sickening lurch that the unhappiness was as much about the new team as it was about Phil's 'death'. It would have been bad enough if Phil had stayed hidden, but instead he'd gone out and picked a new team to replace his old one and Clint wasn't a part of it.

"I wanted you on my team," Phil said, rubbing his thumb soothingly on Clint's arm. "But this is supposed to be a secret team and you've got your own action figure line now. That's not really subtle enough for this work."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Clint chuckled and a reluctant smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "You saw the dolls?"

"Action figures," Phil said firmly. "They're collectable."

"And poseable," Clint said. "How many did you buy?"

Phil pretended not to feel the blush that was probably turning his ears pink. "The entire set."

Clint's smile widened. "Aw shit, boss. You really missed us."

"You," Phil said quietly. "I missed you every day."

"There you go, saying stuff like that when I'm trying to be angry with you." Clint scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand and glared. "Can you stop doing that?"

"No. I've never stopped loving you." Phil shrugged. "It's probably too late to try it now. So you're stuck with me saying things like that."

"I still kind of want to punch you. The last few months have been the worst of my life."

"I know that."

"How good is your new team?"

"Almost as good as you and Natasha," Phil said diplomatically. "Which makes me wonder, how did you get up here without anyone noticing you?"

"They're only _almost_ as good as me and Natasha," Clint said. "I made a list. You should get your security person on it."

"I will." Phil hesitated. "Do I need to find a way to get you in here again? I've got someone who could probably get you clearance without compromising anything or revealing you've been here."

"Depends. Do you want me coming back?"

Phil shifted around so that he was looking straight at Clint for the first time and Clint turned to meet his eyes. It was easy to read the confusion of hope and fear in Clint's expression and Phil couldn't resist lifting a hand to cup his jaw. Clint leaned into the touch slightly and Phil felt some of his own fear start to melt away. If Clint could still respond to him like that then he hadn't lost everything.

"I want you coming back," Phil said. "As often as you can be here, I want you."

He leaned in and kissed Clint carefully, aware that it might be another bad decision but unable to help himself. Clint's mouth opened to him immediately and it felt like coming home, that familiar taste on lips and the sweetly tender way Clint kissed when he was too overwhelmed for anything else. A warm hand settled on Phil's hip and gripped with almost bruising strength, as though Clint had to hold on in case he disappeared again.

"How long do we have before your team starts to worry about you?" Clint asked when they broke for air.

"Probably six hours," Phil said. "Unless we get a call. What did you have in mind?"

He was trying not to feel too hopeful, although some parts of his body weren't obeying that instruction very well. It had been months since he'd seen Clint, after all, and apparently certain instincts never went away. Instincts like the one that urged him to kiss Clint until he was begging even though Phil was absolutely certain that distracting Clint with sex would be a very bad plan right now.

"Sleep," Clint said, nodding to the little cabin and its bed. "Right now I'm still angry and you look like you'll fall asleep before I can get your pants off. So, sleep. Maybe see how we feel about each other later."

"Sleep," Phil said, telling himself not to feel disappointed. "There are some blankets in one of the drawers. I'll take the sofa and-"

"Woah, who said anything about sleeping separately?" Clint said quickly. "I'm mad but I'm not _that_ mad."

"My bed isn't really built for two."

"We've slept in smaller."

Phil chuckled and leaned against Clint. "That's true."

"Is there a lock on that cabin thing?"

"I haven't really investigated yet. I didn't think I'd have a reason to."

Clint smiled and patted his hip reassuringly. "Why don't we find out?"

There was a lock and the bed was both too narrow and exactly right for two people. When Clint spooned up behind him, Phil felt all the tension flowing out of his body for the first time in months. The feel of Clint's arms around him and Clint's warm breath on the back of his neck was familiar and safe. 

Phil was on the edge of sleep when he heard Clint murmur, "Love you."

He smiled and slipped into sleep.


End file.
